It was midway through the 2nd chain-lift of Big Thunder Mountain Railroad where I turned to my Tinder date flush with the excitement of illumination — backlit by a prismatic spray of drones; adjacent an audio-animatronic goat. 

I said “the intellectual depth that leads to wisdom and happiness has been discarded in favour of shallow forms of reflection and recall”. She bit her lip and she took my hand as we crossed from Frontier to Adventureland. 

The heft of a breast strains against shirt. Her legs disappear into the curve of that skirt. Long, lithe and lean in this panoptic sprawl of delight and abnegation of the difficult choices in life. 

We see just what we want to see. Believe with total certainty. 

By the time you realize you’re in the abyss, the more you try to shine a light the darker it gets. Destiny Manifest in every dark ride until eventually you too agree it was all justified. 

We see just what we want to see. Believe in any old fantasy. 

Within these earthen berms, the architecture reassures. Nostalgic, safe and warm. A mushroom cloud appears above the Matterhorn. 

Her hair is in flames. My flesh melts from the bone. Our skeletal remains left in a licentious pose. The inner workings of the machinery is exposed. It really wasn’t so bad as far as Tinder dates go.